


The Great Outdoors

by misura



Category: Tombstone (1993)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:47:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28065708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: The ground was hard, the night air carried a distinct chill and the mosquitoes sounded to be readying themselves for a delicious dinner. It almost made Doc wonder why he'd come at all.
Relationships: Wyatt Earp/Doc Holliday
Comments: 20
Kudos: 32
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	The Great Outdoors

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CatalenaMara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatalenaMara/gifts).



The ground was hard, the night air carried a distinct chill and the mosquitoes sounded to be readying themselves for a delicious dinner. It almost made Doc wonder why he'd come at all.

"A hot meal, a nice fire and a horizon that just won't quit," the very good reason for Doc's putting up with all this inconvenience said. "I'm telling you, Doc, a man don't need much more than that, what do you say?"

"I say I'll raise you a comfortable bed and a good poker game," Doc said.

Wyatt chuckled, as if this was a joke rather than an entirely serious commentary on all that lacked in their present situation. To really drive home the point, he said, "I hear you," which was a big, flaming lie as far as Doc was aware.

"You couldn't have a found a spot with slightly fewer rocks?" he asked, winning another guffaw.

Doc wondered if Wyatt even knew how little he laughed while going about his usual business. Nothing inherently amusing about keeping the law, of course; serious business, law keeping, but even so, it was a poor calling that left a man incapable of cracking a smile now and then.

"Picked it special for you, Doc," Wyatt said. "Best and most rocks in the whole damn county."

"Too kind." Doc experimented a bit with shifting his location. When on the trail of a bunch of good for nothings, one did need one's beauty sleep, after all. Or any sleep, to be honest. "Quality and quantity."

"You could've left me to it, you know. No call to be putting yourself through all this," Wyatt said.

"Nonsense," Doc said. "Thrilled to be here."

Wyatt grinned at him. "Are you now. Is that so."

Friendship was a many splendored thing indeed, and Doc wouldn't have traded Wyatt's for all the riches in the world, if only because winning them at poker was far more enjoyable, but from time to time, Wyatt had a way of delighting him even more than usual.

"That is so indeed. You said it, didn't you? Your terrible cooking, a lot of smoke doing nobody no good whatsoever, and - sorry, I forgot, what was that last one again?"

"A horizon that just don't quit," Wyatt said, proving a poet's soul dwelled behind those twinkling eyes, or possibly that Doc's education had inexplicably failed to provide him with a deeper appreciation for 'a big, fat nothing as far as the eye can see'. "And ain't nothing wrong with my cooking."

"My mistake. Must have been the ingredients, or perhaps the recipe."

"Recipe's been in family for ages. Heck, my grandpa's killed folks for that recipe," Wyatt said, his tone leaving it delightfully mysterious whether or not this was actually true or if this was mere funning.

Doc's money would've been on the latter, though not having met Grandpa Earl, it was a bit of an uncertain bet. Not at all the thing. "O tempora o mores," Doc said, and then, because Wyatt was his friend after all, "Means that what was no doubt widely considered delicious in your grandpa's time might have lost some of its appeal in this modern, more civilized age."

Wyatt sniffed. "Civilized. Right. Tell that to the good folks on that farm they burnt down."

"Ah." Doc clicked his tongue. "There. Gone and done it, have I? And we were having such a nice moment, too. Waxing poetic on ages past and the great outdoors and whatnot."

"Rocks," Wyatt said, ever helpful. "I distinctly remember you complaining my ears off about rocks."

Not the clearest and most straightforward invitation anyone'd ever extended to Doc, but as previously mentioned, these were less than ideal circumstances. He scooted over to Wyatt's side of the fire, watching Wyatt watching him coming.

Wyatt's mouth was doing that thing again - 'smiling' was what they called it in the common tongue.

Doc reached out, closing his fingers on one of Wyatt's earlobes. "Why, Wyatt, I do declare. If I've been complaining your ears off, as you so lyrically put it, then what are these things on the side of your head right here? Extra noses? Handles? Is something interesting going to happen when I pull on them?"

Their faces were close enough together for a kiss. Doc was momentarily tempted to go for it, and politeness be damned. Wyatt did like for the proprieties to be observed, however, so he refrained.

"Why don't you try it and find out?" Wyatt said.

Doc realized it wasn't just Wyatt smiling anymore, which was quite something, wasn't it? Might be Wyatt had had a point about the great outdoors not being all bad. "Is that an invitation?"

"Did it sound like an invitation?" Wyatt said, putting a little growl in his voice.

Doc felt a frisson of something shiver up his back. "I asked, didn't I? Logically, when you've got someone asking a question, it's safe to assume they don't already know the answer."

"And you're lecturing _me_ on civilized life?" Wyatt raised his hand. Doc decided to give way rather than risk a big old knot of arms.

"Civilized life's some way off from here, I daresay," Doc said. It had its advantages, he supposed, apart from the poetic. "No one here to see what we get up to except you and me. Makes a man think, doesn't it?"

"Not with you talking my ea- talking to me, it doesn't," Wyatt said.

Doc exaggerated an uncharacteristic pout to get another laugh out of Wyatt. He'd never been able to help himself; Wyatt simply made it too easy. "You want me to look instead of touch, all you need to do is say the word. I'm not in the habit of going where I'm not wanted."

"Right. You're just in the habit of winning a lot of money." Some people, most people, would have said it with a hint of bitterness, perhaps a smidgeon of aspersion. Wyatt merely made it sound like the inarguable fact it was.

"Can't help it that I'm always lucky," Doc said. "It's a gift and a curse also, I do confess."

"Too bad the only one around here's me, and I'm not playing."

"Winning's not as much fun when it means a friend's loss. But to return to the topic of rocks, any ideas?"

Wyatt rolled his eyes. "Any point in telling you to stop being so damn sensitive?"

"None whatsoever," Doc admitted cheerfully.

"Thought not."

"I was thinking though, perhaps something to distract me while I settle down. Take my mind off of the whole rock issue, so that by the time I recall the problem, I'll be safe and soundly asleep already. Does that sound at all feasible?"

Wyatt looked at him, and oh yes, a bit more than a frisson this time. "If that's your way of asking me whether or not I'm up for screwing you hard enough that you'll be feeling it all day tomorrow, the answer's yes. Though in that case, not sure what all that song and dance was about."

"Force of habit," Doc said. His face felt flushed, like he'd had a perfect run of the cards, a stiff drink and a gorgeous woman sitting in his lap - but better, of course, because this was Wyatt. "Didn't want to presume. Terrible thing, presuming."

"Little bit of advice, Doc," Wyatt said, leaning forwards for a bit. As far as kisses went, it was a rather chaste affair. "When it comes to me and you, presume away. Saves a lot of time and effort on both our parts."

"I'll have to keep that in mind for next time."

"You sure there's going to be one? Didn't sound like you were enjoying the scenery and amenities all that much just now."

Doc treated Wyatt to his best cocky smile. "I'm trusting you to change my mind about that very shortly."

(True enough, Wyatt rose to the challenge beautifully - though riding the next day indeed proved a bit of a pain in the behind. Then again, to love was to suffer, as the poets would agree.)


End file.
